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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29436924">Live from New York</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelUnGarded/pseuds/DefenderOfRoses'>DefenderOfRoses (MelUnGarded)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Schitt's Creek AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:55:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,837</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29436924</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelUnGarded/pseuds/DefenderOfRoses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick Brewer, a producer for SNL, is convinced to book David Rose, CBC actor.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Living the Dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>~Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Patrick slammed his laptop closed. If he had to look at one more tweet, Facebook message, Insta, or freaking TikTok bugging him about David Rose, he might scream. It had been non stop messages from seemingly all corners of the globe for WEEKS. Mr. David Rose had quite the fan club, it seemed. Patrick had been able to just ignore them at first. They were trickling in, a few a day, much like any normal push by a small-time fan group. Then, two weeks ago, it was like the floodgates opened. Day and night, 24/7 for the last 8 days, it was non-stop messaging. He didn’t know who started it, but they obviously know what they were doing to get this level of an organic PR campaign going.</p><p>Patrick was living his dream job in New York City. Just a few years ago he was a small-time producer, working for an indie station outside of Toronto. Then he got the call that changed his life. SNL’s executive producers had seen something he worked on, and they wanted to offer him a job producing the show. It involved doing a lot of recruiting of talent, both actors and writers. They were especially impressed with the work he did to make sure his old show had truly diverse representation, and they had been getting heat lately for their lack thereof on the SNL set. He saw the irony of hiring a white guy to help with diversity. He was good at his job though, and that showed.</p><p>Was it hard moving to a different country? Yes. Especially since it ultimately resulted in the breakup of his relationship with Rachel, and the cancellation of their wedding. It was for the best, though. After moving to New York, Patrick had to face some hard truths about himself, and what he had been avoiding for his entire life. He wasn’t happy being the stereotypical boyfriend with the perfect ring looking for the house to grow 2.5 children and a dog in. It took moving to a different country for Patrick to realize that wasn’t who he was, and to give him the courage to say that to Rachel and his parents. Those were some conversations he wished he had his favorite SNL writer around to script for him - Twyla definitely would have found a way to make them hilarious and not stressful, that’s for sure.</p><p>“Patrick! Hi! How are you today!” </p><p><em> Speaking of Twyla…. </em> Patrick rolled his eyes, and smiled up at Twyla, one of the writers he had brought on at SNL. “I’m….. Not great, Twy. I swear, the David Rose fans are driving me nuts.”</p><p>“OMG! I LOVE David Rose! He reminds me so much of my great uncle! I mean, except for how my great uncle dressed in drag during prohibition so that he could sneak booze all over the place…. But, other than that, totally reminds me of my great uncle!”</p><p>“Oooooh kay. That’s something, I guess. But, regardless, his fans are driving me nuts. They have happened into some sort of organized campaign to get David to host. I just wish they would stop!”</p><p>Twyla got one of those serious looks on her face. The one that was usually followed by an incredibly insightful comment that made Patrick realize his world views were shifting. The last time he saw that look, Twyla’s next words were, “Are you <em> really </em> attracted to women?” She, of course, then smiled and skipped away to the writer’s room.</p><p>This time, though, Patrick was not ready to hear it. “Twy. No. I don’t want to hear it.”</p><p>“Patrick. I’m sorry, but you should listen to them on this one. It’s going to be important.”</p><p>“What do you mean, ‘it’s going to be important’? Important when?”</p><p>Twyla smiled. “Patrick, I didn’t say that! I said HE is important! You definitely need to get him scheduled. I’ve got a feeling!” </p><p>Patrick sighed as Twyla snagged the last half of his donut and walked away. Patrick didn’t question her instincts, despite how annoyed he was by where they were leading him. “Fine!” Patrick yelled down the hall at her back. “I’ll email his publicist!” All he got for his concession was a jaunty wave with powdered sugar decorated fingers. </p><p>---'-,-(@</p><p>“David.”</p><p>David rolled over, pulling his weighted blanket more firmly over his lengthy body. </p><p>“David.”</p><p>David huffed. He had been up until 2 a.m. with Stevie, going back and forth about Season 6 of his show, <em> Tequila Mockingbird </em> . He had been planning the ending for years, never actually thinking he would make it that far. Now that he was here, though, it was so much harder than he thought it would be. He had a plan. He was executing the plan just as he had decided seven years ago. Of course the plan would go to shit because actual people had <em> finally </em>started watching his show. Hence, the sleepless nights all week. How do you end something that feels like it has just started? That was as far as his thoughts had gotten before Stevie finally got sick of him (and ran out of wine), and kicked him out of her apartment. He’d been not-sleeping ever since.</p><p>“David!”</p><p>“Huh? What? WHAT Alexis?!”</p><p>“Get <em> up </em> David. I have news!”</p><p>David glared out over the blankets he was huddling under. “Alexis. What the actual fuck could you want right now. How are you even in my apartment?”</p><p>Alexis huffed, and sat down on the chair in David’s room as if it were her throne and she was gracing him with her presence. “David. As if I didn’t make a copy of your key that one time you gave it to me. I learned my lesson in the shah’s palace in Dubai. If you get a key, you copy it! Every time! And OMG, stop distracting me. I have big news!”</p><p>David sighed and pulled the blankets over his head, letting the weight hold him down and calm his anxiety. “Alexis. You know I’m dealing with a lot of stuff right now. I cannot add something else to my plate.”</p><p>“David. Stop. David. Seriously, come out of there.” The siblings struggled over the bedding, with Alexis winning out over David’s ineffectual flailing. </p><p>“Oh my <em> God </em> Alexis. Fine. Fine. What? What?!”</p><p>When he finally looked at her face, he saw that she had the small, contented, half-crooked grin that she only got when she was extremely happy with what was going on. Not “I made my client lots of money” happy, but “I’m about to fulfill my brother’s greatest desires that he didn’t even realize he had” happy. And that was when he heard a series of words that he never expected to hear all together, in a row.</p><p>“David. I got an email. It’s SNL. They want you to host, next month.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“The whole secret lies in confusing the enemy, so that he cannot fathom our real intent.”<br/>~Sun Tzu, The Art of Ware</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patrick slammed his laptop closed. He thought that his problems would be solved when he agreed to book David Rose on SNL. Instead, thanks to David’s publicist (<em> “Alexis Rose. I’m David’s publicist and life coach. I can help you with this wardrobe challenge that you seem to be having.” </em>), things were worse than ever. He didn’t think he would ever say this, but Patrick was missing the days when all he had to deal with was David Rose’s Rabid Fans. </p>
<p>It had started innocently enough, with his normal “Thank you for agreeing to be an SNL host. Please review the attached contract, and get back to me with any additions or changes. We hope to have this confirmed in the next few days, so that we can move forward with planning your hosting details.” </p>
<p>Standard. Easy. </p>
<p>When the first response came through that night, it was fine. Then a response the next afternoon to the new changes. Then the day after that. Now, Patrick was four days into a contract negotiation that usually only took one, and a new email had just come through from <a href="mailto:alexis.rose@alexisrosegroup.com"> alexis.rose@alexisrosegroup.com </a>. Patrick took a deep breath and gently opened his laptop, clicking into his email.</p>
<p>-----------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p><b>Alexis Rose      </b>11:03 am</p>
<p>to <a href="mailto:pbrewer@nbcuniversal.com"> pbrewer@nbcuniversal.com </a></p>
<p>Re: David Rose Contract</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hi, Patrick.</p>
<p>How are you? How is your wardrobe doing? Did you give any thought to a change there?</p>
<p>Anyway. David was not excited about the latest change to the contract, and feels like there is a tiny bit of room for improvement. Please look over the following notes, and send us the adjustments!</p>
<p>Amend Paragraph 5 on page 10 to read as follows:</p>
<p>
  <em> David Rose will have full participation in the writing room, along with final approval of skits. While adlib is understood to be a large part of SNL writing, David Rose will give direction on acceptable language for use during any unscripted scenes. </em>
</p>
<p>Once we have those changes, we think it will be good to go! Thanks so much!</p>
<p>Warmest regards,</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>Alexis Rose</em> </b>
</p>
<p>President, CEO, and Primary Partner</p>
<p>Alexis Rose Group, LLC</p>
<p>-----------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>Patrick could not believe what he was reading. A guest, wanting creative control? Over everything? Including the language? There was no way that would ever fly with the executive producers, let alone the writers and actors. </p>
<p>“Patrick! How are things?” </p>
<p>“Hey, Twyla. They are…. Not great. I just got the latest contract change from David Rose’s publicist and it is a lot.”</p>
<p>Twyla laughed. “Oh come on. It can’t be that bad?”</p>
<p>“Twy. He wants full creative control.”</p>
<p>“Okay… and? What’s so bad about that?”</p>
<p>“Um. It’s full creative control! Like, he wants to be in the writing room, and have final approval on skits, <em> and </em> have control over language used during any adlib scenes! There’s no way anyone will go for this!”</p>
<p>Twyla sat down in the chair across from Patrick’s desk, and folded her hands gently together. “Patrick, I told you the other day. I’ve got a feeling about him. It’s going to be alright.”</p>
<p>“Twyla, I don’t think you understand. He wants to be in the room with you all! Controlling what you do!”</p>
<p>Twyla chuckled. “Patrick, have you watched his show?”</p>
<p>“I mean, some of it? Like, some of the first few episodes?”</p>
<p>“Go home. Watch at least all of season 1, and I strongly suggest you watch season 2 as well. Then come back and chat with me tomorrow morning.” Twyla stood up, patted Patrick on the head, and walked away, while Patrick watched in confusion.</p>
<p>Later that night Patrick kept trying to work on the contract changes for David Rose. He kept getting distracted, though, by his Interflix cue with “Tequila Mockingbird” up next. He couldn’t believe he was even thinking of watching the show, but he trusted Twyla. So. <em> Fine. I’ll watch the damn show. </em> </p>
<p>Patrick hit play, and sat back, preparing himself for what was sure to be a struggle of a few hours. </p>
<p>Four hours later, Patrick jolted when the Interflix autoplay started rolling the full credits. He had apparently been sucked into the entire first season, and was surprised by how much he had enjoyed it. He sat there watching the credits all the way through for the first time, thinking about how much he had enjoyed the first season of the show. It was just, so well written, and so inclusive. It was amazing. </p>
<p>“Wait. What??” Patrick had caught words on the screen without thinking them through, his brain just barely registering what he had seen. He grabbed his phone, and rewound a few seconds. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Executive Producer ~ David Rose </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Lead Writer ~ David Rose </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Showrunner ~ David Rose </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Holy shit. He does it all. <em> And... </em> I’m talking to myself. What the hell.”</p>
<p>Patrick sat there, dumbfounded, thinking through all of the requests that had been sent through for the contract, which all now made complete sense. And, based on what Patrick had seen so far,  he deserved every change, based on what Patrick had seen so far. Now he just had to figure out how he was going to convince everyone else.</p>
<p>~~~~~~~</p>
<p>“David! What are you doing on my computer?”</p>
<p>David slammed the laptop closed, wincing slightly as he heard a creak that was definitely not anything breaking. “What? I don’t know what you are talking about.”</p>
<p>Alexis huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder before grabbing her computer off David’s coffee table. “I saw you typing something. Oh my god, David. You have your own things. Why are you using mine?” </p>
<p>David sighed, and slumped back into his chair.  “Imphnphm…”</p>
<p>Alexis glared. “Speak up, David. Mumbling isn’t going to make me stop asking what you were doing.”</p>
<p>David rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, Alexis. Fine. I was emailing the SNL producer.”</p>
<p>Alexis sat up, looking abruptly at David. “Wait. What? Last I checked, I was the publicist and you were the actor slash executive producer slash show runner. What the hell are you doing sending emails?”</p>
<p>David started examining his nails. He didn’t really want to answer Alexis’ question, but he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to avoid it. But also, he really didn’t want to have to tell her that he was intrigued with the producer. He was absolutely not a  creepy internet stalker guy who looked up Patrick Brewer online after Alexis had dropped his name the other day. What he found was a buttoned up mid-range denim-wearing guy with an apparent love of sports ball and trees. No really. Like, every other picture was either trees or balls. And not the entertaining kind of balls. The boring ones. That sexually repressed boys-who-think-they-are-men tossed at each other while pretending it was something more than what they did in the school yard as kids. The outfits were cute, however. So….</p>
<p>“It’s nothing Alexis. Just, like, leave it alone.”</p>
<p>“Leave <em> what </em> alone? David, what did you do?”</p>
<p>“I just, well. I felt like we needed to be a bit more aggressive in the negotiations for my SNL contract.”</p>
<p>“Aggressive? A bit more <em> aggressive?! </em> David! You are, like, <em> maybe </em> a 2-bit actor from <em> Canada </em>--”</p>
<p>“Hey! You’re from Canada too!”</p>
<p>“--who is JUST NOW starting to get a following. I have worked very hard to get you to this point, and I will <em> not </em> have you ruining everything because of some weird little crush on a straight boy!”</p>
<p>“What? Weird little crush? How do YOU know he’s straight? I don’t have a crush! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”</p>
<p>“David. Everyone knows that you should do your research before going into battle. Of course I looked up this button of a man. Of course I have been chatting with Twyla and moving all of the fans into a carefully executed, 21-step plan to get you on SNL. WHERE YOU DESERVE TO BE. Don’t ruin this for yourself, David. We all know you are your own worst enemy!”</p>
<p> “Oh my god, Alexis. I won’t…. I’m not going to sabotage….. It’s. It’s fine. I didn’t ruin anything, I promise. I just… He’s…… interesting.”</p>
<p>Alexis paused and looked at David. He was sitting there, hands wrapped in the sleeves of his Givenchy sweater, eyes studiously not making contact with anything near herself. “Wait. David. You like him.”</p>
<p>“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p>
<p>“No. David. I know this look. You <em> like him </em> like him. Oh my god.”</p>
<p>David looked up at her tentatively, then back down at the floor. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t immediately give away his interest in Patrick Brewer. He also couldn’t stop himself from nervously replying. “Alexis, that is ridiculous. He’s obviously straight. There is nothing there to like. So just, like, leave it. I don’t think I actually ruined anything. Probably.”</p>
<p>Alexis took a deep breath. She hadn’t seen David like this since the early days of the total disaster that was Sebastian (may he burn in hell for all eternity.). David was such a gentle soul, wrapped in a spiky black and white couture shell. He deserved happiness, and according to the chat she and Twyla had earlier that day, this might just be his chance.</p>
<p>Alexis put her hand gently on David’s clenched fists. “David. Breaths. It will be fine. I’ll look back through the emails you sent --”</p>
<p>“<em> Oh my god.” </em>David muttered under his breath.</p>
<p>“---and I’ll make sure everything is fine. You didn’t ruin anything. If I can get myself out of a hostage situation with a Saharan Desert tribe of pirates, I can get you out of this and on stage at SNL.”</p>
<p>“You think? I mean. I did ask for some things I actually want. Not just, you know, like special flavored gummy bears.”</p>
<p>“Although you want those too?”</p>
<p>“Yes. Yeah. Yes, please.”</p>
<p>Alexis smiled when she saw David’s secret little half-smile. It was always so great when she could do right by her big brother. “No worries, David. I’ve got your back. We’ll be fine.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is in progress, and will be at least 5 chapters. Plan to post one chapter a week.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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